


Trading Spaces

by brethilaki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bodyswap, F/M, First Time, Jealousy, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:19:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brethilaki/pseuds/brethilaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel needs to borrow Anna's body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trading Spaces

**Author's Note:**

> Mild dubcon warning because Dean thinks he is having sex with Anna when technically he is having sex with Castiel in Anna's body.

Cas watched as Dean touched Anna. He watched as Anna touched Dean. He stared until he felt like a magnet in the chest of his vessel was pulling him toward them and it took all of his control to stay still and all of his will to tear his eyes away. But then it felt like electricity was shocking his vessel’s nerve endings —and he felt that he liked it. Too much. More than he had liked anything before in his life. Which was saying something (because his life had be long) but it wasn’t saying much (because he hadn’t “liked” enough to recognize the feeling until—what had Zachariah said?—“He has this weakness. He likes you.”).

He went to Anna because—because what else could he do? He meant to ask for guidance but it came out differently:

“I need your body.”

Anna stared, mildly shocked, and let her mouth fall open with a realization that only seemed to surprise her more.

“No...” she breathed, but not in answer to Castiel’s question. “No, I didn’t think you could.” Cas stared back uncertainly.

“You don’t even know it, do you? You’re desperate, and you don’t even know why.”

“Yes!” Cas choked. He had another word for it: “desperate.” “Like” and “desperate.” What did that mean?

“You love him, don’t you? But you don’t know what you want. You don’t know what to do.” Anna shook her head. “I fell for this, Castiel. And now you want it, free of charge? Tell me... you’ve fallen for him... but would you fall for him?” Cas didn’t know. He hated not knowing. He wished Anna would answer his question, or at least tell him the answer to her own.

“What am I supposed to do?” he said instead.

“I can’t tell you that,” Anna sighed, “and taking my body as your vessel isn’t going to give you the answer.”

“Please—!”

“I’m sorry, Castiel. You can’t have both worlds.”

She could hear his voice at the back of her mind as she kissed Dean slowly. Cas never stopped asking. He offered her wealth (as Dean pushed her down onto the back seat of his car), knowing she would have no chance to use it. He offered protection (as Dean slid off her clothes), knowing he was in no position to give it. Finally, as Dean paused to roll on a condom, he offered her his Grace, though they both knew there was nothing she could do with that. But when Dean nudged her entrance, “Ready?” she closed her eyes and let Castiel’s prayers fill her mind.

“Yes,” she whispered, and Dean pushed in.

 

Castiel blinked and the infinite Heaven than surrounded him was instantly condensed and internalized—if he weren’t so sure of that he would have sworn he was in Hell because every nerve ending of his vessel screamed that it was burning. Synapses fired like lightning and struck his mind until it crackled with static and the last lucid thing he remembered was a quiet yes that had shocked him to the core.

This wasn’t his vessel. This was Anna’s body. Dean pushed into it, and he—she felt it. Cas _felt_.

It was sudden, and obvious, and beautiful, the most intense thing Castiel could ever remember having experienced, and Castiel had experienced much of creation.

Or had she? She had been there, certainly, had a divine and mechanical love and sometimes a righteous fury, but that had been duty. This—this welled up from inside of her, entirely unbidden and beyond her control. She had no name for this. In her mind she called it “Dean” because at that moment and for a long time after, she would associate feeling (its discreet and finely separated variations still indistinguishable) with Dean, feeling only when she was with Dean or thinking of Dean, and only feeling things related to Dean.

Now she felt Dean throbbing inside her, figuratively but also, she realized, literally. Physically. Cas’s physical feelings had been overshadowed by her internal ones, but she discovered that those former were just as intense and much easier to identify: Anna’s skin was on fire; it wanted to be touched. Anna’s lips were swollen and tingling; they wanted to be kissed. Her hips were restless and wanted to move, she was full and squeezing Dean as if afraid he might try to escape and her clit throbbing and craving friction.   
“You okay? Did I hurt you?” Dean was looking at her with concern and Cas realized that she was weeping. 

“No. I'm not in pain. It just feels very—” very Dean “—very good.” Dean cocked an awkward grin, part pride, part confusion. “Touch me,” Cas said, and Dean leaned down and sucked at her lips as he slid his hands over sweat-shined skin, beginning slowly to move his hips. Cas wrapped her legs around them to push him deeper, her arms around his back to hold him close, a hand behind his head to hold their mouths together. 

“Mm. Anna,” Dean said after a while, trying to pull back. “Gotta breathe, Anna...”

“Sorry,” Cas said, deflating a little at the name. 

But then Dean was kissing down her neck, nipping and biting gently at the shoulder and rubbing his hand up her side to squeeze her breast. Cas exhaled sharply. 

“You like that?” Dean asked rhetorically before suckling it gently. 

“Dean...” Cas breathed, running her hand over the muscle of Dean’s shoulder down his side to his chest where she rubbed a thumb over Dean’s peaking nipple in imitation and reciprocation. Dean groaned into the flesh of Cas’s bosom and his hips snapped twice before resuming their rhythm. He traced Cas’s twitching stomach muscles down to her clit and massaged it slowly. 

“Dean...! Oh, Dean...” Cas's head lulled back and to the side; she wished she could watch Dean's face, but could not force the vessel’s eyes to focus. 

“Anna....” Dean groaned in response, and Cas felt a something inside him flare up in rejection of that name. She found control of her right hand and raised it up to cradle jealously the mark she had left, unintentionally possessive, when in flesh and gender unclad she had harrowed Hell for Dean’s soul. Because it was Castiel’s mark, not a vessel’s, Anna’s palm fitted to it perfectly and Dean’s eyes shot open briefly in wonder and the O of his mouth formed a sound incoherent and confused.

“You are mine,” Cas whispered in Enochian so low Dean could not have heard but shuddered still, and Cas dropped her hand down the curve of his arm before his muddied mind could begin to question, leaving him with just the memory of sensation and a desperation that overtook his actions. He hiked Cas’s leg farther up the car seat for a better angle and drove in hard. Castiel could feel a pressure building low in her belly. She reached up and grabbed at Dean with her hands, gripping at his hair, stroking at his face, ghosting across his chest until she found his hand and moved it back to her clit where a thumb teased it in slow circles. 

“Yeah, you're close, aren't you baby, you're so close aren't you? Go on and let go for me, go on and let it out...” he was babbling but his voice was deep and rough and intimate in Cas's ear, and she felt the pressure building, building till it popped suddenly and gave way to an intense physical pleasure. 

Cas clawed Dean's back with one hand and kneaded his ass with another, searching for purchase as she came, haze blocking her vision and a ringing filling her ears. Underneath it, she thought she could feel Dean's name caught in a scream in her throat.

When her brain cleared Dean was still panting above her and she reached up to trace the lines of his face, lines her own hand had restored with care and precision, lines contorted now beautifully in pleasure. 

"Shit. Shit, Anna...!" he cursed as he came, thrusts slowing to still. 

"Shh," Cas silenced him again, because she didn't want to hear Dean say that name in that voice. 

 

Cas whined as Dean finally slipped out.

"That was amazing," he murmured.

"Yes," Cas agreed. After a few moments, Dean asked carefully,

“You, uh... you have somewhere else you're sleeping...?"

"I have nowhere else," Cas lied. 

"Guess I can't throw you out, then," Dean joked, rummaging around the floorboard. "Here, you cold?" He threw Cas his discarded shirt. Cas was not cold, but she put on the shirt because it smelled like Dean. She found Anna's underwear and put those on, too, because Dean had replaced his.

"Com'ere," he beckoned, wadding his overshirt into a vaguely pillow-shaped ball and, when Cas had lain her head on his chest, pulling his jacket over them. Dean threw an arm around her and closed his eyes. Cas followed suit and pretended to be drifting until Dean finally dozed off. Then she lifted her head up to gaze at him and her hand up to trace his face for what she was acutely aware was probably the last time. With a thought she stilled his troubled dreams and watched his brow and twitching muscles relax into peaceful oblivion. Then, because she could think of nothing she would rather do, she lay against Dean's warm body and contemplated his sleeping face for some hours before deciding, finally, that she had probably better leave. 

 

Cas slipped quietly back into Jimmy Novak's still-unconscious body. It wasn't strictly kosher, but Jimmy had never revoked his permission, and Castiel didn't feel the need to go through the formalities of waking Jimmy to renew his lease when he had only been gone a few hours. 

He was disappointed but not surprised to find the physical reminders of Dean's presence had been left behind—those belonged to Anna's skin. The internal feeling of Dean was still swirling inside him, however, and for that he was grateful—though it was sharper now and tinged with pain. Cas suspected the feeling belonged (despite its edge) somewhere in the category of "happy," but found the label "Dean" more accurate and descriptive. A quote entered his mind, unbidden as feeling had entered his heart. "It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," he said aloud. He wasn't sure, still, if "Dean" was "love," though Anna seemed to think so, and Anna understood feeling much better than Cas did. Whatever the case, Cas was sure now he would rather have the memory of what he felt, pain and all, than surrender to numbness again. He was conflicted still, and confused, but it was hard for him to worry about that when he was feeling so Dean.


End file.
